Nor is going to one’s parents house at 3am on Christmas Eve, unlocking the door, running into the house and hurling in their toilet. When I finished, I turned around to see mum. I yelped. She said she was disappointed in me, but couldn’t really say any more, since Dad and my Brother were both pissed too.
I should take this opportunity to warn you that this post may contain a LOT of ‘my extended family are white trash’ mentions.
So after, like, five hours sleep, the Parents woke me to get my festive groove on. We opened the presents, I was spoilt rotten (as per). The highlight was a brand spankin’ new PENTAX DIGITAL CAMERA! So happy. Once I upgrade my piece of shit laptop to win2000, prepare for LOTS of pictures. I took about thirty alone of just me looking pretty and pale and lovely. Then another dozen of the family rottweiler looking cute. God I’m hot sometimes. I’ll see if I can get one of the more obstructy arty pics and make the Other Boy make it a jpeg. Then I’ll put it on here. And you’ll be all, ‘Damn, that Desci is hot. I wanna make out with her on my couch’.
Anyway! Christmas eve party was cool. It was @ my friend Writer’s house. Writer was my tutor in first year, but he was awesome (and 27, so not one of those fucking baby boomer writers who loves Helen Cunting Garner). Shortly after the semester, we became friends. His friends are all cool too. They’re party, party boys. We oft end up at a'sorted, closing time, being the only ones on the dance floor, shakin' it to Ratcat. We think we're cool. So their annual Christmas party kicked ace. And I finally befriended Surlypunk, this guy who’s always on the edge of the group, when we’re all at a club dancing, he’s sitting frowning and not talking. But it turns out he’s actually lovely, and we’re going to meet on Monday to exchange some porn.
I also saw a guy in a descendants hoodie. I had a fanboy moment with him, as I’ve never met anyone else who can actually converse with me about that band at length. He invited me to this BBQ he’s having tomorrow, so that’ll be fun.
I had such a great night, I was actually enjoying being single. I know the ‘wise’ thing is to give myself a breather before jumping into another relationship, but I’ve waited four damn years to get down on the Other Boy’s bizz-isness. (Sorry, I’m talking in the style of Dogg, Snoop today. Purely for my own amusement and the annoyance of my little bro). But yeah. Great night. I was cool and drunk with hubris. And cheapass red wine, which was less sweet.
Christmas, blah. From parent’s house in Bundoora, to Dad’s side for lunch in Eltham, back to Bundoora for a nap, then to South Morang for Mum’s side’s big Christmas party. Got a lil drunk and had half of one of dad’s hashcakes. Very strong, my uncle made the butter with a 48 hour infusion. Luckily we were on our way home before it hit me. Then when we got home, we all curled up on Mum and Dad’s waterbed and watched a dodgyass pirate version of Team America. It was as funny as I remember. But by then I was so stoned I had to go to bed and pass out.
Today I’ve just been hanging out at Bundoora. Took Max for a stroll through Binnak Park (most beautiful vast parklands, smack bang in the middle of suburbia). The Other Boy called me, we’re gonna hang out on Wednesday. More about that later. Surlypunk called to confirm which porn we were swapping (I’m giving him the Not Another Eighteen Movie DVD, he’s giving me some other DVD).
Pretty good Christmas, considering.
Stay tuned tomorrow; I’ll finally put that post with the six text messages from Funzo Ex 3!
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